Silence
by Drake S. Hellion
Summary: The Dark Brotherhood before Skyrim, in the final years of its old glory. An account of the rising of the "last" Listener and his story of leading the Dark Brotherhood into a new, albeit short, glorious age before its decline. RnR, I own nothing mentioned.
1. Prologue

**Silence**

_By: Drake Sykes Hellion_

**Prologue**

I stumbled trough the cold rain of the clouded Imperial City night shivering. My ragged clothing doing little to shield me from the freezing droplets that bombarded me mercilessly, like thousands upon thousands of icy needles they bit into my skin with energetic vigor as if alive and wanting what remained of my life.

But despite the damned rain my only thoughts were of the bloodied and rusted iron dagger concealed beneath the fabric of my shirt and held in place by the pit of my arm as I hugged myself tightly while moving towards one of the many wells within the city that lead to the sewer system beneath it. Thankfully, this particular drain exit and entrance had an overhead covering that partially shielded me from the rain.

I took the dagger from my clothes, slid it through the grating and heard it hit the water with a splash. I was relieved, they wouldn't find me with a bloodied weapon when they found that red guard, Dorian, dead on his floor in a few days when his body made enough of a stink of the place for somebody to notice and send a guard to investigate. Even with the knife gone and the only witness to my crime now dead I still felt as if someone out there knew what I did as if they were there to see me kill Dorian.

I could still feel my hands shaking, even before I went into the numbing rain I shook and my heart hammered against my chest as if threatening to burst from my being. I stopped beneath an archway of a door and pulled out the sack of coins I had gotten from Dorian. It was a nice sum of roughly two hundred and twenty septims, I smiled a crooked smile as I gazed down at the small circles of metal before I slipped off towards the Talos Plaza District.

For the last twenty-five years of my existence on Tamriel, I was always struggling to get by. From my days in an orphanage in Chorrol to becoming a begger and lowly pickpocket on the streets of the Imperial City. I didn't know my parents and I was told my mother had left me at the Orphanage when I was but a bundle no older than two months, maybe more, maybe less. All I knew was that my mother left me in that damned hole.

I was always picked on, teased and tormented because I was a "bad" Imperial, a disgrace to my own people and a blemish on the perfect face of the Empire. Which was funny because most of the children who did all this were Orcs, Dark elves and Argonians. My food was taken, my bed sheets stolen some nights and even my pillows were sometimes pilfered by other stronger and larger kids.

And no matter how much I tried, how much I suffered and prayed to the nine divines for something good to happen in my life. I always ended the day on a bad note, like when a particularly nasty Dunmer named Valen Dreth beat me bloody because I called him an ass who didn't deserve his own people's name. I hadn't cried so much that night I spent in the private room of the Orphanage.

Of course, life never got any easier as I got older. It only got harder in fact.

By the time I was fifteen I had as much scars as an old war veteran because of my more violent tendencies when it came to my growing hatred and anger, yes. Growing hatred and anger, see I learned from a young age because of my stay in the orphanage that if I cried, show any form of positivity towards anything then it would be taken away by someone else stronger and older than me.

Now though, as I walked up to the Tiber Septim hotel and pushing the double doors open before stepping inside looking like the water drowned rat I usually did. I walked up to the front desk and asked for a room, the bartender looked me over and handed me some keys while holding out her hand.

"Thirty septims," she gave an overly sweet smile that made me suspicious of the real price of this place. But I couldn't argue, she was owner and I really wanted to sleep on a nice warm bed for a change from the fabric bedspreads, if they could be called that at all, that littered the corners of the streets. No, tonight I sleep on a real bed and enjoy my newly acquired coin.

I handed her the Septims and she directed me to the first room on the left up the stairs in the back. Without another word I turned away from her and made my way to and up the stairs to the lodging area for my well earned sleep.

I found the first door on the left, slid inside the room and browsed it. Nice furnishing, clean tabletops and a bed fit for a king, just being in this room and not on the streets freezing to death in the rain made me forget that my clothes were almost entirely soaked, that I had killed a man for his septims and was now using that blood money to simply sleep in a proper bed for once.

Walking over to the dresser I looked at my face in a nearby silver plate, nicely polished. I stared back at myself, dark brown eyes with pits forming under them, tousled dark locks of soaked hair clung to my forehead and my ragged clothing filled with tears. I looked as homeless and broke as the begger I was.

But not anymore, so long as I had septims, I wasn't like those others wasting away on the streets begging for handouts. I would never be like them again, begging for the means to survive and praying to some other worldly force to simply see the next day or to have a belly half full of decent food.

I also wanted revenge. I hated my mother, I wanted to find her and hurt her for putting me in that orphanage, for abandoning me. But where was my father? I should have had one… maybe my mother was a whore and got me by mistake. The thought displeased me and I tore my gaze away from the plate while setting it back down.

I moved to the bed, removing my shirt and tossing it to the floor before I laid onto my side and as soon as my head hit the divine pillow I could feel my eyes grow heavy and the grip of slumber edging me to close them. I closed my eyes, then felt that same presence as if someone was watching me and knew what I did, I opened my eyes to glance around the room slowly to check if there was anyone in there with me.

Nothing, nothing sides a chair and other furniture. Nothing at all. I closed my eyes fully and shook the feeling away as best I could before I soon gave into the darkness of sleep.

* * *

I blinked and there I was again, in Dorian's house. Crouched in the shadows clutching the rusty iron dagger, I could hear the red guard's footfalls in the other room, hear him scribbling something down on paper and even the occasional chuckle or laugh. He was writing a letter, about what? I don't know or care. My belly ached, my arms and legs were tired and cold. I needed septims or I would starve within a day.

He laughed again and this time his footsteps grew closer until I saw a shadow block the light from the beneath the door. I readied my blade, it was midnight and he was probably just going to lock up his door. I narrowed my eyes, I had to do this. There was no other option now, it was the extreme or die.

He opened the door, his foot came through. I tensed my legs to pounce and gripped the blade in a white-knuckle excitement. His face appeared, eyes not even so much glancing my way as he turned to the door, his back to me now and took a single step towards it.

I pounced like a Kha'jiit, in four long strides my hand was over his mouth and as he started to tear his face away from my palm I sank the blade of my dagger into his upper back, blood pooled on his shirt. Crimson staining green.

His body tensed and I twisted the blade for good measure, he jerked with the twist then his weight crashed against me and took us both to the floor with a thud and grunt. I pushed his still form off of me and sat up to check my clothing in an almost frantic panic. I sighed in relief when I didn't find any blood on me and the only thing bloodied was the dagger I used, that was good.

I stood and moved over to Dorian, then I started going through his pockets carefully. That netted me a nice fifty-two septims and his house key. I stood again and glanced around before I moved over his dresser and soon, I was pilfering his entire household and within an hour of meticulous searching I had enough septims to last me enough.

Before leaving out into the street I listened through the door for anyone passing by or just standing close by that could see me leave, when I heard no one I opened the door and slid back onto the street while closing the door behind me as quietly as I could. The moment the icy cool rain started touching my skin I slid the bloodied dagger into my shirt and hugged myself. I needed to find shelter.

* * *

I shot up from my bed and looked around it again. I could feel someone in here with me, I could feel their gaze and almost feel their bloodlust in the air as if an aura of their very essence. My eyes scanned slowly across the room again and still nothing.

"You sleep rather soundly for a murderer…" A dark voice commented beside me. I whipped my head to the side and almost flew off the bed from surprise when I saw a black robed figure and beneath that shadowy hood a pair of brown, almost dark red eyes stared at me with amusement. His face, or what I could see of it, was scarless and his lips quirked upwards to add to his amusement at my reaction.

Before I could make further observations he continued his "greeting". "That is good, you will need a clear conscience for what I am about to propose." He gave a smile, but it was more like he was bearing some silent threat.

"Who…" I stood and tried to seem unafraid, but how could I not be? this man. He reeked of Dorian, of death and it made me almost sick. As if I could smell every life he had taken and that number was significant. "Who are you?"

He was a talented killer where I? I was a man who got lucky and picked someone who didn't lock up until too late. "My name is Lucien Lachance," He spoke his name with such nonchalance I knew it was important. "I am a Speaker for the Dark Brotherhood. And you," he eyes flashed with something I couldn't tell, "Are a cold blooded murderer. Capable of taking life without remorse or mercy."

I didn't even want to pretend I knew what a Speaker was, but I knew the Dark Brotherhood and what they were and I instantly knew the danger I was in, these men were wanted by every guard in all of the cities of Cyrodill and this apparent high ranking member was alone with me in my room.

I was dead and no one would knew until they came to check on me.

"I…" I couldn't speak right, I had to take a breath and a moment before my mouth formed proper words, "What do you want with me?" I asked, even though I probably knew the answer. He was here to kill me.

He smiled that threatening smile again. "Dear child, the fear on you is almost palpable," I couldn't tell if he was teasing me or not, "Do not fear me, child. For I am not here to exact vengeance for Dorian, I am here to offer you a chance to join our rather…unique family."

That caught me by surprise, or rather a lightning bolt to my chest. He wanted to offer me to join the Dark Brotherhood, a group of powerful assassins and feared all across Tamriel for their shadowy methods of getting to those who thought they could not be got to. And here was a man who wanted me to join their ranks.

"I am…" The Dark Brotherhood would be wealthy right? They could provide me with the means to never go back to begging. I could die, but so what? A death by the sword is quicker than starving or freezing to death on the streets. "Listening, Mr. Lachance." I finished.

He smiled again. He does that a lot, I guess. "Ahh, I find your etiquette refreshing. Now, listen closely, dear child. You must pass one more test before you can officially join us…"

I nodded slowly, taking another breath and listened for his instructions.

**End of Prologue  
So, the verdict? Should I continue this story? or just let it die?  
**


	2. Chapter I

**Silence**

**Chapter I**

The road out of the Imperial City was even colder than inside the city and only the huffing and hooves crunching dirt kept me aware of the carriage I was riding on was still moving. I was slightly warmer though thanks to the thick robes I had hastily purchased from Divine Elegance in the Market District after I woke up this morning. Now I was on my way to the Inn of Ill Omen to kill a man named Rufio.

Lucien hadn't been very detailed in describing Rufio, but I guess that came with the territory of being an assassin. All I knew was that Rufio was a man, staying at the Inn of Ill Omen and that the location of said Inn was somewhere north of Bravil along the road. So, I was en route there via carriage, which cost me a healthy bit of my septims, a truly bitter investment to prove myself to Mr. Lachance and the Dark Brotherhood.

I was brought my musings as the carriage driver called from the front, "I never seen you around before, you leave the city often?" he was an Imperial, easy enough to tell. Like me, his eyes were a shade of brown and dark haired.

Shaking my head I replied, "No, I don't. My first time in two years, actually," I wasn't lying, I hadn't any reason to leave the city for two years that I considered worth the risk of possibly dying in the wilderness so I stayed within the stone walls trying to get by. So, no point in lying to the driver, no harm right? He was just doing what he was paid to do and I imagine that driving a carriage could get boring without conversation.

"Two years, huh? Talos that's a long while to get out and enjoy the great outdoors," he commented with a shake of his head.

I smiled bitterly. The outdoors weren't so great when you slept on the street most of your young adult life, not at all in fact did I ever consider the outdoors great. I wanted walls, a roof and comfort instead of cold, uncomfortable and poor.

So, for what felt like Hours me and the carriage driver talk about idle topics until finally the carriage stopped with a sudden jerk, knocking the driver forward and almost off his perch. I however was taken to the floor of the carriage with a grunt.

"What in the Divines?" I muttered as I go to my hands and knees.

"Bandits!" The driver cried and snapped the reigns of the two horses pulling the carriage along. They huffed and attempted to move, but one of the leather armored bandits rushed up and with a shout of bloodlust cut a bloody gash across the side of the driver, who fell over onto the ground clutching his side screaming in pain.

"Get the one in the back!" I heard an Argonian's voice order. I felt my pulse quicken, I couldn't take bandits, I didn't even know how many of there were! They could have people with bows watching from a distance or just sheer numbers surrounding the carriage.

Footsteps along the side of the carriage brought me back to my current problem among problems. The group of bandits about to kill me for what little I had left on me. Alright, inventory count! I had some ragged clothing, a new robe, a brand new dagger given to me by Lucien Lachance and a map.

I was dead.

I tried to quell my racing heart and think the situation out when the first signs of the bandit was his hand, in its grip was a mace, iron and heavy. Then the rest of the bandit, a Breton if had to guess, who sneered at him, "Get out 'ere!" he reached for me.

I chose to fight, naturally. I wasn't going to run, they could catch me on the horses they just liberated so, options as they were left me with only my fight stance and not flee. I gripped the handle of the Blade of Woe in my robes and let him drag me by the scruff of my shirt towards him.

Then I struck, my hand jerked the blade free of its sheath and flew in an arc that blinked past the man's shoulder in a clumsy strike. But the way his eyes widened and he let go as if burned to clutch his now bleeding shoulder I guess I hit my mark, something that hurt.

I took his screams as my cue to fight for all I was worth. I leapt to my feet and jumped onto the bandit, my boots landed on his chest and shoulder with my full weight and he collapsed to the ground and screamed all the louder when I heard bones snap and his breath gasp out what air that was in in lungs.

I reached down, took his mace and surveyed my surroundings while I rose back up to my full height. I caught sight of two more bandits. The Argonian and a Kha'jiit, the Kha'jiit growled and raised his gleaming steel sword before charging at me with clear harmful intent.

I gripped the mace tighter then I reared back and tossed it square at the charging bandit's face. The heavy instrument of death flew fast and hit three times as hard as the kha'jiit barely gasped before his comrade's mace bashed his face halfway into his skull.

Heart racing and body itching for movement I looked to the Argonian, who was already there beside me and dropping his own sword. I feebly raised the blade of Woe and metal met metal, but unlike his heavy sword my small dagger wasn't made for it and I dropped it in pain when the blows strength went from the blade to my hands.

He sneered, "Die, now!" he spun around for another swing. This one was aimed for my stomach, I stumbled back, tripping over the body of the first bandit and the swing missed me. Thank the Divines for that one, I stood and raised my fists as the Argonian rushed me again, a thrust forward and I jumped to the side and the blade pierced my robe and skimmed my side. It drew blood and I felt pain shoot through the area.

Pain that doubled the strength of my punch to his leather armored gut. He gagged and stepped back twice and tried to bring his sword back, I gripped his hands with both of mine and jumped at him with all the force I could muster. We hit the dirt and I kept a vice grip on his hands, if that sword got free I would be at a very big disadvantage.

He growled and hissed, "Damn you!" he lifted his knee into my injured side and I cried out. As much as I didn't want to, my body reacted without my permission and I let his hands go. Before I could collect myself my vision blurred when his elbow collided with my face and caused me to roll off him.

Vision still blurry and trying to refocus I saw him drift into view. On his feet, looking very angered and sword pointed down at my chest with both hands. "Any last words, cur?"

I gritted out, "Yeah, just three…" he stopped a moment and that was enough for me to roll onto my side as the blade came down and impaled the ground where I had been, then I slammed my knee into his and with a sickening shriek his leg bent backwards and he fell to the side.

"By the divines!" He cried as he looked at his broken knee, I was completely forgotten as he tried to soothe what must have been fire in his leg. I slowly stood, turned to his forgotten sword and gripped its leather wrapped handle.

I pulled it free, then turned to him and I felt a sudden anger and excitement surge through me as I twisted it around and brought the point down and through his chest, piercing a lung and heart at the angle I stabbed him from. He coughed up a splatter of blood then died on the dirt. Hands shaking and body oddly numb sides the small pain in my side I let the handle go and my legs gave out on me, I fell onto my ass and stared at the dead Argonian, Kha'jiit… but…

I turned to the back of the carriage. The Breton lay there, still coughing and looking like he'd just seen something unsightly, I forced my legs to respond and stood again, shakily I walked towards him, taking up his old mace as I did. He saw me coming, gasped and tried to crawl on his back away from me.

"Don't hurt me! I am sorry!" He pleaded as he tried.

"Not yet you're not…" I muttered at him, tired now that the adrenaline was leaving my blood. I gripped the bloodied mace tighter and was soon at his side, I raised it over my head with both hands and brought it down on his final scream with a wet crunch and all was silent ever more sides my heavy breathing.

I fell back against the carriage and gathered my breath while staring at the blackening sky. I remembered another thing, I turned and called, "Hey, driver! You alive?" I moved over to the side.

He was on the ground, his side still clutched and his teeth grit in pain. He nodded and that was enough for me, I moved to him and used the little strength I could gather t help him on his feet and up onto the driver seat again, then I too sat next to him to keep him steady.

"Can you drive?" I asked, ignoring the heaviness of my eyes. Who knew defending oneself was so exhausting?

He shook his head, "No, but we're close to Bravil, take the reigns and just give em a good snap," he instructed through his teeth.

I nodded. "Good snap, got it," I turned to the horses, took their discarded reigns and then with a small pause of hesitation I snapped them and the horses jerked forward in a light jog along the road. I snapped them again and they sped up, I glanced over to the driver. "We need to find you a healer."

"Ya think?" He snipped, "I know, Just… damn this hurts, nice work though," he gave a lopsided pained smile. "Glad I had you with me. Where did you learn to fight like that?"

"Desperation," I stated honestly and gave the reigns one last snap before I let the horses do the rest.

The remainder of the ride to Bravil was silent and filled with nothing but the drivers groans of pain and my self slapping to keep awake at the reigns. When we did reach Bravil, after passing the Inn of Ill Omen mind you, I rushed to the guards and explained that we had been ambushed by bandits on the ride and he needed help.

They quickly carried him off into the city and I told them I had to leave to the Inn of Ill Omen to meet my friend, they hadn't questioned me further and I was off on foot down the road, I hadn't mentioned my own injury and instead hid it beneath my robe and looked at the darkened sky overhead.

The stars were out and it was decently warm, not unpleasantly so. I took a deep breath and enjoyed the scent of nature before continuing on my way. In about an hour I reached the Inn of Ill Omen. I didn't bother knocking on the door and stepped inside.

The bartender looked up at me from behind his desk and gave a nod in greeting, "Greetings, traveler! What brings you to my humble inn?" he gave a smile.

I moved forward and stopped at the desk, "I'm looking for an old friend of mine, his name is Rufio, heard he been here?" I knew he was here, but I needed to make it seem like I was poorly informed.

The barkeep nodded, "Oh yeah, he's still here." he gestured towards the hatch in the corner of the room beside the door, "In what I like to call the private quarters, he rented out the room for a full month," he paused and leaned forward. "If you ask me, he's running from something, but…" he leaned back. "What do I care? He pays his tab."

"Yeah, he always was… tidy," I smiled and turned to the hatch, moving over to it. "Okay, you old bastard, Its been years so if you draw a knife on me this time I'll sock you one…" I grumbled like an old acquaintance before I opened the hatch and climbed down into the darkened basement of the inn.

I crept along the passage until I found Rufio, he looked at me from the desk in the room and he growled out, "Who the hell are you? What are you doing here?" he stood and went for his dagger at his belt.

Stepping back and gathering my wits I decided this could work. "Rufio! It's me! Can't you-No!" I drew my own dagger and tackled him to the floor before he could shout, "Why! Why are you doing this? HELP! BARKEEP!" I screamed and drove my dagger into his chest deeply before I leapt back into the door and slid down it, Rufio staggered up and took a step towards me before collapsing.

The barkeep arrived shortly after and surveyed the scene, this time I made sure my injury was in sight and the scuffle made it seep quite a bit to the point I was a bit dizzy, "Oh Gods!" he said, moving to my side and kneeling. "Are you okay? What happened?" he looked to Rufio.

"Rufio! He… attacked me! He didn't even… remember me…" I sputtered and looked at my bloodied hands, as if noticing the blood for the first time. "Ahh!" I swiped them as if to try and remove it. "Why did he do it? He… and my father! They were best friends!" I didn't bother hiding my own tears this time, I didn't know my father and it was always a good pain to call upon for tears.

The barkeep kneeled and patted my shoulder, "It's alright, son, you did what you had to…" he tried to comfort me. But inside, the pain of my fatherless self and the pride of being an excellent liar swelled. I had killed Rufio and completed the task set to me by Lucien Lachance, now I needed to wait.

"Come on, I'll get you a room so you can rest and I'll ride out for the guard post nearby at Bravil when you're asleep," He assured me, I nodded and he helped me stand. I welcomed the help, it really was difficult to stand at this point. I had lost a lot of blood and repeated scuffles was taxing.

I was laid on the bed and he bandaged my wound before he disappeared out the room and before long I heard the front door closing, then nothing but silence. I smiled slightly, then closed my eyes to let slumber take me.

A cold presence filled the room and I awoke.

"Well done, Dear child," The same cool voice of Mr. Lachance greeted my ears as I sat up and looked at the robed Speaker. "You've performed admirably, and quite ingeniously." He gave that predatory smile and he held up the cleaned Blade of Woe, "You forgot this. Dear brother," he held the blade handle out to me.

I noted the 'brother' suffix and took the blade back and looked at him before sliding the dagger into its sheath and hiding it under my pillow. "So…Am I part of the Dark Brotherhood?" I asked tentatively.

"Yes, dear brother, you are," Lucien replied good naturedly with the same smile. "Now, I oversee a particular group of our family, you will join that group."

"Where must I go?" I sat straighter and tried to keep steady.

"When you are rested," He stepped forward and placed a hand on my shoulder, forcing me down onto the bed and he lifted the covers over me. "Go the Cheydinhal, there you will find an abandoned house. Go inside and find the tunnel, when you get to the door, answer thusly. "Sanguine, my brother." and speak to Ocheeva."

"Cheydinhal, Abandoned house… Sanguine, my brother… Ocheeva," I mumbled lightly and yawned, my eyes drooping. "Understood, Speaker."

"Good, child, now rest," a dark chuckle echoed in the room. "And know I will be watching you."

I couldn't tell if that information comforted me or not, but before I could decide I was asleep yet again and this time I was not awoken by anyone.

**End of chapter 1**


End file.
